


Closer To The Edge

by I_am_mindwalking



Series: Missing Pieces [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, missing scene s03e20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_mindwalking/pseuds/I_am_mindwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scenes from Death Benefit (3x20), which might explain why Shaw was so chipper at the beginning of Beta (3x21).<br/> </p><p>  <em>“That was fun!” Shaw sounded thrilled when she slammed the heavy steal door close behind them. </em></p><p>  <em>The air was crisp and dry, a thin layer of snow on the ground, crunching beneath their shoes when they walked side by side, hands deep in their pockets. </em></p><p>  <em>“We should do this again sometime,” Root agreed, half turning to Shaw and letting her eyes linger for a moment.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer To The Edge

Root parked next to a private airport hangar and waited for Shaw to hop off the motorcycle first.  
“I suppose there was no time for me to go gab my bag?“ Shaw took of her helmet and placed it on the seat. Pulling her hair back into a pigtail, she watched Root do the same.

“Unfortunately not, we're on a schedule,” Root gestured toward the waiting jet.

“Why am I not surprised,” Shaw muttered but couldn't be heard with the running turbines. They climbed the stairs and Root instructed the pilot shortly before they entered the cabin of their luxury ride. 

There were definitely worse ways to travel, Shaw pondered while she took off her coat and surveyed the interior. There were four chairs in the front, two of them respectively facing each other, separated by a table and two couches in the back. Tasteful, Shaw reflected.

“Where to?” she asked after the pilot secured the door and left for the cockpit.

“Anchorage,” Root brushed past her, a light touch of her hand on her back. She didn't have to walk by so closely, there was enough space, but Shaw knew she was teasing.

“You hungry?” Root asked and Shaw's eyes lit up, she didn't get to finish breakfast after all. “I took the liberty to order lunch for both of us.” Root filled two mugs with coffee while the jet rolled to the runway. “I don't know about you, but I'm starving!”

 

******

“I guess there is nothing here for me to do right now, is it?“ Shaw was bored. The day was still early and she had nothing better to do than watch Root work on her laptop. She had flickered through the TV channels but she'd rather poke her eye out than watch talk shows or soaps.

“My neck feels kind of tense.” Root didn't look up right away but finished whatever she was doing first, “If you could,” she didn't need to finish that sentence.

“No.” Shaw's face showed no emotion whatsoever. “And we didn't steal a jet.” Shaw pointed out.

“Technically, I borrowed it.” Root shrugged. “Why don't you enjoy the view?” 

So Shaw decided to glare at Root, only the hacker didn't seem to mind, nor did she get unnerved. Most people couldn't stand being stared at, but Root was either deeply focused, or she simply could block it out.

Only, she didn't. She was aware, but she actually was on a tight schedule and if she didn't finish the job the machine had given her now, their whole operation was busted. And so her fingers flew over the keyboard restlessly until she was satisfied her work was done.

Then she closed the laptop.

“Finished?”

“Yes.”

“How does that thing work for you?“ Shaw inquired, pointing at Root's ear.

“It took me a while to get used to it, but it's pretty cool,“ Root explained ecstatically, “And She's making it quite easy, really. But you probably know more about it than I do,” Root gazed at her. Maybe they could have a normal conversation after all?

“I've only seen one during my residency, but I read about it.” Shaw explained and then they talked a while about her medical career and how it got cut short.

She didn't reveal any new information, nothing that Root hadn't read in her file yet, but it was interesting to hear the story from her point of view other than what her case officer had written down. Root was kind of proud Shaw felt comfortable enough to share with her those small details. 

******

“That was fun!” Shaw sounded thrilled when she slammed the heavy steal door close behind them.

The air was crisp and dry, a thin layer of snow on the ground, crunching beneath their shoes when they walked side by side, hands deep in their pockets.

“We should do this again sometime,” Root agreed, half turning to Shaw and letting her eyes linger for a moment. 

A terrorist group was out of business, their assets secured and some of them would be able to eat solid found again within a month or two. A good day in both their books. Now the police only needed to pick the neatly wrapped package up while the dynamite duo was once again on the way to the airport.

“Can I buy you dinner?” Root seized the opportunity of Shaw's good mood.

“I would be really pissed if you didn't.” Shaw dusted off her black pea-coat and only then realized that it was more of an invitation to a date than payback for previous physical hard work.

Locking eyes, Shaw felt a little jolt from within her chest. “I mean, I'd like that.” she she mumbled, momentarily confused at that strange feeling.

******

“If you don't take that fork out of my face, I will stab you.” Shaw hissed, pushing Root's hand away. This is embarrassing, she thought, glancing across the restaurant but nobody took notice of their arguing over whether Shaw should try some of Root's dinner or not.

“Fine, don't try. Suit yourself.” Root narrowed her eyes and bit down on the delicious salmon with spinach and lemon. “But you don't know what you're missing,” the hacker hummed.

“Thanks, I'm good.” Shaw closed her eyes. If this was a date, it was the worst ever. In fact, it wasn't, but that wasn't the point, Shaw thought. It was a real nice evening until Root started to try to feed her food. It must have looked like a cheesy romantic comedy.

The hacker surrendered and focused her attention on her own meal. Truth was, she had a pretty keen sense of how far she could push Shaw. And since she didn't want to ruin their partnership, she knew to tread lightly.

And Shaw had to admit she liked working with Root. Her methods, with the help of the machine were far from what she was used to, but it worked smoothly; most of the time. There were always casualties in their line of work. But she had learned to trust the machine and therefore, Root.

“I understand,” Root placed several bills on the table and gave Shaw the signal to leave. Right on time, Shaw thought. She wasn't used to thinking about other people, what they were doing and why. Her job as to find a way to eliminate threats. And thinking about Root unnerved her. 

On the plane, she had studied the hacker closely, how she frowned when she was working on a problem and how her expression changed when she solved it, small wrinkles around her hazel eyes. The way she pushed her hair behind her ear showed Shaw that she was well aware of her watching. It was a typical female gesture. And Shaw was good at reading people and had noticed the change in Root's body language in her presence over the last few months.

******

“You can check your phone for your flight information.” Root's voice was in her ear when Shaw stepped out on the streets of Miami. “Harold needs you.“

Of course he did, someone always did. 

“And while I doubt I will have time, why don't you text me the address of that steak joint you mentioned?”

“Yeah, rub it in,” Shaw pushed a strand of hair out of her face and hailed a cab.

“It's a bold statement you made, I merely want to test it.” Shaw didn't have to see her to know Root was grinning. 

“Either way, too bad you couldn't join me, I would have loved to prove you wrong.”

Shaw narrowed her eyes and even though she tried, she couldn't help but smirk.

 

****

When Reese dropped her off a home, Shaw craved a shower and rest. She wanted to redress her wound and sleep for at least eight hours straight. But a knock on her door startled Shaw and she grabbed her gun. Hobbling to the door, she checked the peep hole and rested her head on the door, sighing. 

“May I come in?” Root asked through the closed door.

“Root,” Shaw opened the door, “Now's really not the time.”

The last two days hadn't exactly gone as planned. John and Shaw had worked hard to keep their heads down and hide until they were sure they weren't exposed. But Harold was still missing.

“I have a layover in in the city until 7.45 am, so I thought I stop by and,” Root's smile faded when she realized Shaw wasn't her grumpy self but actually jaded. “What happened?” she inquired, mild concern showing in her voice now.

“You haven't heard? Good, that means we managed to fly under the radar.” Shaw pointed at Root's suitcase, “This isn't a motel, you know,” and stepped aside all the same, then closed the door behind her visitor and put the deadbolt back into place. 

“Harold's MIA,” Shaw went over to the kitchen area and Root noticed her limping. “Samaritan's going live anytime now.”

“What happened?” Root repeated, removing her hat and scarf and Shaw filled her in quickly, noticing the concerned look she got.

“And that,” Root pointed at her legs. 

“Caught a bullet. Wasn't fun.”

“How bad?”

“I'll live. But I really need to get cleaned up.” Shaw opened a few drawers and grabbed some clothes.

“I'm going to take a shower.” Shaw took of her shirt and dropped her pants. “Don't touch anything!” she disappeared into the bathroom, pushing the door shut from inside, not seeing how Root blinked and her nostrils flared at the sight of her half undressed state. 

But Root was the last person she needed right now, Shaw leaned onto the sink and stared her reflection in the mirror. Or was she?

****

 

“Make yourself useful and help me,” Shaw threw her medical kit on the bed when she exited the bathroom a while later, towel drying her hair and clad in a black tank top and matching hot-pants.

Root had taken off her jacket and stood by the window, looking her up and down approvingly.

Walking over, she took gloves from the kit and put them on. Coming to a halt right in front of her, Shaw noticed Root had taken off her boots as well. Feel right at home, she thought but didn't speak up.

Smiling smugly, Root kneeled down and peeled of the waterproof band aid that Shaw had applied for the shower and inspected the wound. 

“Nice stitches,” Root nodded appreciatory. “Who sewed you up?” There were far worst jobs she could be doing right now, Root thought by herself.

“Reese.”Shaw could feel Root's breath on her naked skin and for some reason, she couldn't remember feeling a tingling when Reese was in a similar position not long ago. Both he and Root worked efficiently and quick, but it did not feel the same.

“Lay down on the bed?” Root suggested and Shaw blew air out of her nose.

“No sign of infection, Harold's watchdog did a good job.” Root applied some more spray. Waiting for it to dry, she took in the muscular legs in front of her and it didn't go unnoticed by Shaw.

Root finished up and snapped off the gloves, “There, all done.”

“If you pat me, I'll knock you out.” 

“Wasn't even thinking about it,” Root tossed the gloves and the used bandages into the garbage can in the bathroom. 

“Right.”

“So, She gave me the night off, so I have nine hours of spare time,” Root clapped her hands and looked at her expectantly. 

“Good for you,” Shaw pulled back the covers of her bed. “You can crash on the couch.”

“You don't have one,” Root tilted her head, looking at the only armchair in the room .

“Hm, too bad for you then,” Shaw carefully sat down on her bed, trying not to wince at the piercing pain. “Should have stayed at a motel after all.”

“Is it okay if I at least take a shower before you kick me out on the street again?” Root sighed.

“Be my guest.”

****

 

Shaw lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, hearing Root rustle around her suitcase and turning on the water. Just when she was dozing off, there was another knock at the door.

So she got back up and limped to the door, taking her gun with her yet again. This time it was Reese, who she remembered now had said something about take out food and that she had to eat something.

When the bathroom door opened, Reese eyed Shaw, his face as expressionless as always.

“Hello John,” Root greeted him chipper. She felt much better after the shower.

“Root,”John slowly turned back to Shaw, his eyebrows slightly raising as if waiting for an explanation. “Have you heard from Harold?” he asked the hacker. Obviously, nobody had stun gun darts and no bruises, so this wasn't Roots’ usual breaking and kidnapping visit. And he wasn't going to interfere if it was none of his business.

“Unfortunately, no. And as far as I can tell, if he doesn't want to be found, we won't find him. So, what brings you here?”

Reese put the paper bag he'd been carrying on the desk.

“Meds, and food.” John nodded at Shaw, turned and left.

“He still hates me,” Root stated when Reese was gone.

“So do I,” Shaw replied.

“No, you don't.” Root laughed. “But it's so nice of him to bring you dinner.”

****

When Shaw woke the next time, Root was sitting on the window sill looking out into the night or sleeping, she couldn't make that out.

Shaw pondered about how they had gotten here and almost chuckled. Shot and beaten, bruised, but still alive. Pushing the covers back, she slowly got up, as if not to disturb the hacker, if she was asleep after all.

Limping towards the window, Shaw took in the picture. Root looked peaceful. But she wasn't asleep, the hacker had her arms crossed over her chest, her legs propped onto the sill and was watching her in the reflection of the the window.

“Very graceful,” Root turned her head, nodding at her hobbling and gazed at her with dark eyes and an expression Shaw couldn't read just yet.

“Shut up,” Shaw came to a stop right in front of her. They were eye to eye and right now there was nothing else in the world she wanted more, Shaw realized, startled. She liked how Root looked at her. She knew her and didn't care about the rest.

“Make me,” Root recognized the hesitation and took the initiative, pulling Shaw in and capturing her lips with her own. 

Root hadn't lying when she told her she was kind of a big fan after reading her file. She had felt drawn to Shaw from the start. And while there was much protest on Shaw's end, it was only half-hearten. Drastic, sometimes, but for Shaw, half-hearten.

Root breathed out through her nose heavily when Shaw deepened the kiss, pressing their bodies together.

Shaw's thumb caressed a sensitive spot on her neck and the wait had been so well worth it. And that was the last coherent thought.

****

 

“Make me,” Root said and it was spoke with just the right mix of daring and begging it made Shaw's knees go weak. 

And she let herself go soft. Fuck the world and it's problems. She could at least take one night off and leave all of that behind. 

And Root actually got her. She had pushed her buttons all the time, testing, establishing a fine line, but she could wrest some sort of emotion out of Shaw, even when it was simply annoyance. But mostly it was amusing, Shaw pondered. She liked how Root taunted her. Oh, and how did she like it. Especially now, that Root's lips were on hers and her hands were holding her body close, her embrace firm.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks you, Heather, for beta-reading!


End file.
